The Father's Return
by AmyAmeliaPond12
Summary: She opened her eyes wider to see a full set of teeth grinning at her, and then felt a pair of dry lips brush against her ear, "Now, tell me, where is the child?" All she wanted was a drink, but Agent May gets an unexpected visitor that will change the lives of the team forever. (This is my first full story on FanFiction!) (This is set after the Hydra problem is solved)
1. Part 1

**Author's Note: Hello there, great to see you're reading my story today, and this one is going to be a real treat. I wrote this at about midnight the other night, because I just couldn't get it out of my head. I could barely sleep with it so vivid and clear in my mind. This story is all about the moment May encounters a dangerous stranger who is searching for a special someone, and not all goes well for the Agent as she faces painful consequences. So, with no further ado I give you The Father's Return...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

She sat at the bar, her dark hair scraped loosely back into a pony tail. Her finger tapped the side of her glass, the whisky forming ripples with each tap. Her keen eyes watched dead ahead of her across the bar, eyes sore and red rimmed. She looked back over her shoulder; it was deserted, save for the drunken old man in the corner swishing down a shot of something alcoholic, and the barista who was polishing a tall pint glass.

"Anything else I can get you miss?" he asked quietly, his grey moustache dancing around above his top lip as he spoke. She smiled and raised her glass,

"No thank you."

There was a gun shot and the glass in her hand shattered, scattering glass and whisky all over the bar and her raised arm. Watching the glass fall she found that the barista was lying on the floor behind the bar, his shirt pocket on his chest turning dark red…

She was about to turn around to see the attacker, when she felt a strong hand grasp her arm and yank her off the stool. Her body toppled backwards and she fell to the ground, her head banged against the concrete floor. Shaking her head, she tried to stand up but the stranger was pinning her to the ground with such a force there was no way she could move. She tried to focus on the stranger who peered over her, their breath warm against her clammy skin. They leaned closer and their grasp on her arms got tighter. Attempting to fling a kick from below, they knelt on her shin with a crunch, and she let out a painful yell. She opened her eyes wider to see a full set of teeth grinning at her, and then felt a pair of dry lips brush against her ear,

"Now, tell me, where is the child?" he spoke in such a low, gruff voice that it sent shivers down her spine. Frowning she turned her face to look them in the eye, although she couldn't see him fully as the night had grown darker and the sun had long gone beneath the horizon.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said with effort, trying to forget the pain in her shin for the time being.

"Don't try to fool me, you know where she is, I can _smell her_ on you," he bent over her body sniffing at her neck, their fringe sweeping against her cheek. She fidgeted and tried to shake him off but he lifted up her torso and pushed her to the floor, her shoulders crunching as they hit the cold surface.

"Now, tell me. Tell me!" he bellowed at her, spittle falling into her silky dark hair. She shook as he looked down on her, their eyes all a blaze. Now she came to think of it, his eyes did look like they were strange; there was a sort of unearthly look about them, dark but full of wonders. Coming back to her focus on the situation, she sighed shakily,

"Listen here, I don't know who this child is or where she is, but I know people that can help you-" Clasping his broad hands around her neck, he swooped her off the floor, her boot heels dragging along beneath her, until she was lifted up into the air. She chocked and spluttered at the pressure on her breathing, sweat glistening on her brow. She took a final look at his ever changing eyes, when he suddenly thrust her back through the air into the tall shelf of glass behind the bar. Landing hard on her side into the shards, her legs slapped against the cold tiles, her shin bursting with pain. She grunted as she rolled onto her back. She heard the heavy breathing of the mad man from behind the bar, and pulled out her phone. The glasses in the sink beneath the bar shook and clinked as he stomped slowly towards her, the vibrations in the ground coursing through her bones. Fingers shaking with fear and pain, she struggled to type the number into the phone. Breathing quickly she prodded the call button with such a force that it might have broken the screen if she'd pressed any harder. Lifting the phone to her ear she listened to it ring out, each bell ringing in time to the stomping that approached her.

Suddenly looking up at the bar top, she saw two sets of fingers grasp the wooden hatch, and it was swiftly ripped off the hinges and thrown across the room. There he stood, tall, menacing and dangerous; she liked danger, but not this type.

"Hello, May?" a voice said calmly from the end of the phone. She peered up at the man, who stood still as if frozen in time, his arms hanging strongly beside his looming body. Those eyes starred right into her own, like he was reading her mind and ripping her apart.

"I'm in Ruthie's Skillet diner, I need help, now," she said quietly. Slowly sitting up she began to drag herself backwards across the floor, the glass cutting through her already bloodied hands.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Coulson said worryingly. The whole team gathered around the table, the computer loading a map destination of where she was. A little red dot represented her in the diner.

"There's a-" Suddenly there was a deafening roar that rose from the strangers lungs, the noise so loud that she squeezed her eyes shut, the cut on her forehead seeping blood down onto her eyebrow and along her cheek bone.

"What the _hell_ was _that_?" asked Skye, leaning her hands on the table. The dot on the map didn't move and the team felt a tension build in the air around them.

"I don't know, May, get out of there. We're on our way," Coulson assured her and went to programme in the coordinates.

"I, I don't think I can," she breathed slowly and looked down at her leg. She couldn't feel anything; pain had gone past the point of numbness now.

"What do you mean, just _get out_!" cried Jemma, panicking on the spot. Coulson turned back, the worry in Jemma's voice stopping him in his tracks.

May watched as a creepy grin crawled across his face and he stepped a little closer. She shuffled backwards with one hand, the phone clutched tightly in the other. He followed her slowly as she helplessly retreated along the tiled floor. She stopped short when she felt something behind her that was soft and cold. She turned to see the barista lying behind her, his face grey and drained. She removed her hand from his side, and felt her stomach curdled. She'd seen a lot of death but touching death was much worse.

"Please," she mumbled as the man was almost upon her, "I can help."

"May, get out of there!" Coulson yelled his hands clenched.

May looked up in horror as the man stood before her and lifted his booted foot off the ground. He brought it down with all the might he had. _Crunch!_ May screamed a blood curdling scream that ricocheted down the phone.

_"__May!"_ Coulson shouted as the phone line went dead.


	2. Part 2

**Author's Note: So sorry this took so long to upload! This second part of The Father's Return is the beginning of a dangerous journey for them all, and all is not well for May. Hope you enjoy it, review, favourite and follow! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

Her head pounded like someone had thwacked her with a sledge-hammer, a high-pitched ringing noise settling inside her ears. Her jaw ached as she opened her mouth to let out a long sigh. Pain like this was almost unbearable to contain, in fact she felt numbness take over her whole body, until she was taken lightly by the arms and dragged across the cold, dusty floor. The hands that held her were strong but gentle as she drooped her head backwards in exhaustion. She couldn't find the energy to open her eyes to see the person above her, and the dread that festered inside of her grew and grew as she was lowered to the ground. All was dark and cold around her, the grime on the floor coating the back of her hands as she lay motionless.

Suddenly there was a bright light the flashed over her eyelids, making her flinch at the strain it caused. Giving almost all the effort she had left, she slowly opened her eyes, only enough to see the light shining down on her face. A warm body moved closer to her side, an arm carefully wrapping around her back and holding her up. She heard a muffled voice becoming clearer over the high-pitched ringing in her ears.

"Come on, open your eyes. That's it," spoke a soft voice, a hand placed on her cheek.

"Wake up, come back to me May." Just then she opened her eyes a little more and focused enough to figure out who held her in their arms. She smiled, her jaw aching.

"You're late." She laughed lightly then croaked, coughing up hot liquid that she spat into the dust beside her. It wasn't till she looked down that she saw a puddle of blood, deep red staring right back at her. It wasn't just the blood she saw that she'd thrown up either; following the way she'd been dragged across the room, she saw a trail of smudged gore that stopped just underneath her leg. Then it all came flooding back to her; the bar, the attack, the pain, that _crunch_…

She shifted backwards as she stared at her broken shin, her hands shaking with fear and disbelief.

"It's alright May," Coulson held her closer in his arms, "Just stay calm and listen to my voice."

She wouldn't speak, she _couldn't_ speak. The gore and action had built up and up until now and she found herself finding it hard to breathe.

"May, look at me, look at me," he said clearly and raised her chin. She looked up at him, tears shining over the brown irises in her eyes that had brought him comfort, anger and affection. She trembled and lifted her arm off the dusty ground, and placed her hand on his.

"That's it, I'm here now and it's alright. Breath in and out again." He calmed her down until she closed her eyes and rested her weary body against his. He stroked her head; she looked strangely peaceful yet disturbed at the same time, and he felt so much fear, sadness and care inside. Had he gone with her she might have come away untouched; well, a little less damaged that she'd come to be.

"Coulson," Jemma said through her ear piece, "Have you found her?"

"Yeah she fine, but she'll need serious medical attention," he replied observing her injuries and watching her curl up to him.

"Right, I can see you two on the map," she replied pointing out the two small dots on the hand-held tracker, "I'm on my way." Jemma picked up her rucksack and left the plane, leaving Skye to scan over the CCTV footage from the diner.

Jemma entered the old building, the door squeaking on its rusty hinges as she pushed it open. Cringing, she quietly walked in and down a dusty hallway. Her every step echoed slightly and she winced at the deadly silence.

_Should've stuck to the flats,_ she thought as she walked on in her brown heeled boots. Coming to a door or the right she found that a flight of stairs descended steeply below.

"Ok," she sighed and made her way down into the dark. Using the hand-held tracker in her hand, she followed the many hallways towards the two dots that represented Agent May and Coulson. They were very close, she thought.

There was a high-pitched beep from the tracker and she stopped just outside a tall metal door. The handle hung limp as if it had been ripped partly off, and the dust that layered itself upon the door made her cough. Inside she could hear whispering and then a silence.

"Jemma, is that you?" she heard Coulson whisper and she tip-toed in.

"Yes, I'm-" She stopped short when she saw May lying on the ground next to Coulson; the blood that had smudged along the ground shimmered slightly from the sun-rays that leaked through the window. She saw May's leg. She gulped, feeling sick and worried that she'd have to deal with this alone. She doubted herself, now Fitz wasn't there.

"Right then," she attempted a smile, "Let's see what we're dealing with." Jemma knelt beside May as Coulson shuffled round to rest May's head on his thighs. Jemma held up May's hand and checked her pulse. She looked up at May who was watching her fellow agent intently.

"Your pulse is quiet fast, probably because of the stress and pain you must be feeling. Am I correct?" Jemma watched as May nodded her head in agreement. Jemma sighed and patted May's hand gently.

"Now, I'm just going to inspect the leg injury." Jemma crawled on her knees around May's body to get a closer look at the wound, not taking a second thought about the state of her trousers. Dragging her rucksack along with her, she stopped and looked down on the open wound. She shivered discreetly, trying not to show her nerves. Taking out a pair of white latex gloves from her bag, she carefully began to peel back the damp material from the open wound. It made her feel dreadful and she frowned in concentration. A lot of the blood had dried so the cotton had stuck to the skin, making it harder for her to detach. May grimaced and held onto Coulson's hand.

"_Ow_," she said through gritted teeth and huffed angrily.

"Sorry," Jemma apologised and got out a pair of scissors. She looked up at Coulson who was watching her too. He could see she was nervous, maybe even scared. But May needed her, and she was all they had. Taking a flap of the trouser leg, she started to cut carefully around the leg, being really careful not to damage the dried blood underneath. She stopped for a second and leaned in closer and then she sat up again and sighed.

"I can't cut the material all the way around without having to lift the leg off the ground, which will consequently be rather painful," Jemma said more to herself than to her friends. May looked across at her and sighed deeply.

"Hey, do what you have to do to get the job done. The sooner you get this done, the quicker we can get out of here." Jemma nodded and held the scissors in one hand whilst cupping her free hand around May's leg. She breathed in deeply and looked at the agent.

"Now, this is going to hurt but I _promise_ you I'll do this as quickly as I can." May closed her eyes and tried to relax, her fingers interlocked with Coulson's. Jemma counted to three in her head and then lifted the broken limb. May cried out, the pain from below searing like fire.

"It's alright, you're doing _brilliantly_," Jemma assured her as she cut the material as quickly as she could. Coulson smiled at May to tried and comfort her, feeling the pressure of May's fingers dig into the back of his hands. Jemma snipped off the last part and peeled it away from her wound.

"It's ok now, it's over," Jemma smiled, feeling relieved that is was over herself. May sighed and bit her lip.

"It's not over though is it? How the hell am I going to get out of here?" Coulson and Jemma exchanged glances. They had thought of this but decided to jump that bridge when it came to it. Now they had, nothing came to mind that would work easily. Coulson moved backwards and lowered May's head to the ground. He stood up and bent down on his heels, placing one arm under her back and one under her legs.

"I'll carry you." Those words stuck in her mind like medicine to a wound. She suddenly felt warm inside, as if the pain in her body lifted from her as he held her strongly. Lifting her from the grimy floor she gasped as the pain in her leg burned like hell.

"Sorry," he said looking down at her. Her features softened and a smile glowed upon her face.

"Don't worry about me." He smiled back and felt like kissing her on the forehead; when the sound of heavy footfalls echoed from outside. They all seemed to stop breathing as they listened, eyes wide with anxiety. What could possibly go wrong next? Jemma slowly zipped up her rucksack and got to her feet, watching the door at the corner of her eye. All was silent.

"Jemma, we need to go now. Come over here," Coulson whispered hoarsely, taking steady steps towards the door. She nodded and walked over to him awaiting orders.

"In my inside left pocket, there's an icer. Take it. You'll need to cover us."

Jemma walked around to his left side and smiled down at May, then felt inside the blazer for the icer. It was a little awkward but it was important that she use it, as it seemed that was all the defence they'd have. Pulling out the icer, she checked the magazine and held it up in front of her.

"Ready?" he asked as they heard heavy footfalls getting closer and closer outside. Jemma tried to look brave and stood up tall, the gun in her dainty hands.

"On the count of three… one, two," Coulson held on tight to May and nodded for Jemma to open the door. Suddenly the door was ripped off its hinges and flung behind a tall man who stood in the dark. He stepped forward and Jemma's heart skipped a beat.

"Three," he said and smiled at them.

"Mike! What on earth are you doing here?" Coulson exclaimed, shocked and relieved.

"I was about to ask the same thing," he replied and stepped in. He looked down at May who starred back up at him not quite sure what was going on.

"Hello again," she smiled but her smile faded when she felt a searing pain ride up her body. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. Mike looked almost as worried as the other agents and stood opposite Coulson.

"I'll carry her, you and Simmons lead the way out and we'll follow," he said holding his arms out. May nodded at Coulson thinking, _I'd rather have you carry me but it's an offer I'm willing to take._ Coulson stepped closer to Mike and they slowly and carefully lifted May's body into Mike's arms. His metal arm was cold against her exposed leg, her blood dripping down his arm to his elbow. They all walked out into the hallway and Jemma stopped to get out the hand-held tracker. She looked at the map and pointed to the screen,

"We are currently here and I came in through _this_ entrance," she said as Coulson peered over her shoulder.

"I came in through _this_ side of the building," Coulson pointed on the screen to a door on the far right, "As long as we get out as quickly as possible, that's all that matters."

"So the closest entrance was the one you came in Sir, so that would be ideal."

"Great, we'd better get going then," Coulson tapped Jemma on the shoulder and turned to go right.

"We'd better alright. She's not going to last much longer," Mike said and looked down at May. She was pale, lost in an unconscious sleep. Coulson flinched as if frozen with worry, his feet sturdy on the ground as he looked at her innocent face.

"Come on then," Jemma ordered and they made their way quickly through the dark and dusty hallways trying to find their way out.


	3. Part 3

**Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has followed this story, it's incredible to see so many people interested in my work for once! This is the next part; I don't have much to say and I don't want to keep you waiting any longer, so here it is. The Father's Return - Part 3. Review and enjoy! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

She stood frowning at the tracker, and hit it against her hand. Coulson put a hand on her shoulder as they stopped walking down the hallway.

"What's wrong? Have we lost signal?"

"I don't know Sir. It keeps glitching like there's an interference of some sort." She hit it again and it flickered, grainy lines dancing across the screen; then it focused and she could see the map and the three dots positioned almost in the centre of the building.

"_Ah!_ Lovely, this way," she smiled and led them on.

They took the next left and came to a set of stairs, with a door partly opened at the top. Jemma stopped and looked blankly at the map.

"What's wrong now?" asked Coulson standing opposite her. Jemma couldn't think of what to say or do, without appearing to sound stupid.

"Umm, it's appears we've got a slight mishap. There are a flight of stairs in front of us, right?"

"As plain as day, yes. What's the problem?" replied Coulson looking at the stairs behind him.

"Well, oddly enough, these stairs don't appear on the map. They're just sort of, not there." Both of the agents observed the map, as Mike held onto May in his arms. He sensed something was wrong, something in the air wasn't right, but he wasn't quite sure what.

"_Coulson_," May muttered in her sleep and shivered in his arms. Mike looked over to the man who stood trying to find out whether the tracker had created a minor fault.

"Coulson," Mike called him over and Coulson looked even more worried as he looked down at her.

"This is taking too long. We have to get out of here before she falls into…" Mike trailed off.

"Don't say that," Coulson whispered, "We're doing the best we can to find our way out. She will _not_ fall into a coma, and she will _not_ die."

There was a heavy silence between them both and sad thoughts tugged at their hearts. To loose May would be the last straw, for Coulson in any case. In the months leading to now, Jemma had jumped off a plane in order to save her team from certain death, Skye had been shot trying to save Mike, Ward had betrayed them by tricking them into a fake identity, Fitz was in a critical coma from saving Jemma from drowning, and now this; if anything was going to happen to her, he wouldn't be able to live with it.

May mumbled his name again and he placed his hand on hers. He smiled.

"It's ok, we'll be out of here soon," he tried to sound positive, but if she'd looked up into his eyes she would've seen his uncertainty.

Meanwhile, Jemma was busy detecting the stairs before her and slowly approached them, looking down at her tracker to see if there was any change, though there was none. Something about that area wasn't right, she was sure of it. Taking a couple more steps she suddenly felt a tingling sensation all over her body as she stood at the base of the stairs. She frowned as if in a daze, and turned around.

Coulson and Mike both turned in sync, watching in horror as the stairs and Jemma seemed to vanish in a worm hole.

"Simmons!" Coulson cried, running towards her, but she was too dumbfounded to move. It was too late, she was gone. He huffed and puffed, scared out of his wits at the event that had just taken place.

"What the hell was that?" asked Mike, walking slowly over to him as they both stared down the hallway where the stairs had once stood.

"I don't know," replied Coulson, raising his hand to his forehead.

_"Simmons!"_


	4. Part 4

**Authors Note: I am so incredibly, embarrassingly sorry for how long you guys have had to wait for this story to go ahead. First of all my computer broke - the screen cracked on the inside so i couldn't see what was going on - and plus my whole family has used it for doing work and projects, so this is the first time since June or July that I've been able to type this up. This is following on from Part 3 and because you've waited ridiculously long for this, I'm going to go and upload the next Part as soon as I post this!**

**Please forgive me and tell me what you think of it so far. Your comments mean the world to me and I'm so happy for those that have started following and Favorited this story, I'm awfully grateful to all of you. Many thanks and keep writing! Amy :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

Jemma stared in front of her in disbelief. One second she was with them, the next they were gone. How and what had happened was too impossible for her to comprehend. All she could do was stand on her own two feet, weak knead and terrified.

"Coulson?" she called her voice shaky and distressed. There was no reply, not even so much as a foot step. Looking up at the stairs they looked perfectly stable. Even the door was open, the daylight streaming in an inviting way. Taking steady steps she went up towards the door, her feet feeling heavy at every move. The door slammed shut. It went dark, but she could still see her hands before her, just about. Feeling for the wall she turned around to find she was touching something soft and warm, something like skin.

She gasped. He sniffed.

"Jemma! Jemma!" Coulson cried as Mike followed behind him. He was in despair and loss; he didn't know what to do. He felt stupid, wishing he would've moved quicker to grab her in time.

"Jemma!" They had no tracker, no knowledge of where she could've gone, but there was one thing that Coulson wouldn't stop doing; Hope.

"Coulson, it's no use," Mike stopped and shook his head, "She could be anywhere, down here, out there, who knows."

"I can't give up on her, she never gave up on me," he replied turning around to face the man who stood strongly with May in his arms. He closed his eyes as he saw blood drip from her leg. Oh how angry and upset he was right then, the rage that grew in him was sending him mad.

"Jemma!" he bellowed, his voice ricocheted down the hallway. They waited in silence, Coulson's breathing heavy as the stress in his chest rose up to his throat. Then there was a scream.

"Let me go!" she cried as her body was hauled over the man's shoulder. She kicked and squirmed, fighting to get loose.

"You're not like the other one, you squeal like a child. She just lay there, helplessly… boring." Jemma flicked her legs this way and that, planting a kick in his stomach. He didn't even flinch.

"I'm not sorry!" she protested and tried to prize his fingers from around her waist. He laughed deeply and sighed.

"You're funny too." They continued to move back down the dusty hallways in pursuit of the other humans.

His booted feet slapped beneath him as he ran down the dark corridor.

"Come on!" he cried, "She's this way!"

"Coulson, wait!" Mike yelled after him trying to run carefully with May in his arms. The blood had stopped running from his leg; she was turning cold. Headless of this, Coulson ran on following the cries of help from his team member and friend. His anger drove him on. He hated losing the people he loved.

_"Coulson!" _Jemma's voice echoed down the hallway, the worried tone in her voice ached in his heart. She was too young. Mike ran on taking another quick glance down at May as she slept wearily in his arms. It wasn't long until time was out, but Coulson pursued on.

"Coulson, I really think-" Mike's voice trailed off and was lost within the echoes of his footfalls. Turning around the agent had just enough time to see the man and May disappear through a wormhole. They'd vanished, just like Jemma. Now he was alone, and lost.

"…think we should leave and – _what the hell_?" Mike stopped short and span round to see Coulson vanish into thin air. They stood silently in the room that May had been found in; they were back to square one. He heard muffling and a cry from outside the door. Placing May gently on the floor, she mumbled in her sleep, which gave him a glint of hope.

"Don't worry, I'll be right back. I promise." Raising his arm he readied his fire power and peered around the door frame. Standing in the corridor was a tall man, a few feet taller than himself, with Jemma slung over his shoulder. He stood threateningly but Mike did not hesitate. Stepping out into the hall, he aimed a target shot at the stranger but froze when Jemma was lowered to the ground. She pushed away from him and ran towards Mike. She was only five meters away, four, three… To his horror he saw the stranger pull out an unusual looking weapon – but a weapon none the least – and fire. Jemma screamed and tripped, grasping her thigh. She fell to the ground and vanished down through the floor into a dark wormhole. It closed behind her.

"Jemma!" Mike cried. She was lost.


	5. Part 5

**Authors Note: Ok guys, here's Part 5 of The Father's Return. I've had some people ask if I've spelled Simmons name right, but I spell it with J instead of a G, so there you go :) I hope you like it and finally get to breathe after quick a hectic ride. But it's not over yet... ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

"No, no, _no, no,"_ Coulson muttered walking to and fro. He flung his arms around and stamped his foot on the ground, dust curling around him. He was alone and he found himself wishing they'd got more trackers; Jemma had the only one. He went to call after Mike when he heard a gun fire, a scream, and a yell.

_"Jemma!"_ a voice echoed. Coulson stopped and his eyes glowed brightly full of worry, and a sudden sense of relief.

"Mike!" he called and ran as fast as his legs could go towards the sound of life.

Mike stared at the ground where Jemma had vanished, the dust settling back on the cold concrete, as he clenched his fists. He was sick of fighting, of murder, of death and heart-break. All of that anger and contained rage began to bubble up inside of him. Mike looked up at the stranger through his eyebrows like a hawk stalking his prey, and snarled. The stranger laughed.

"You humans, you're very close. You care _so_ _much_. What _is_ that?"

"You wanna know what that is? It's being called part of a family," Mike said standing proudly.

"And part of a team," Coulson put in from behind them and slowly walked up to Mike. He felt uneasy as the atmosphere seemed heavy with antagonism. He looked around him.

"Where's Jemma?"

"The little fragile being, well, where-ever she went she must have fallen far, ending up somewhere dark and cold. I wouldn't know of her whereabouts, I don't really care."

"You're lying!" Coulson shouted pointing his finger.

"It's the truth, I have no notion of where those gateways lead," the stranger replied casually, though his face remained dark and grim. Coulson stepped forward, his fists clenched and his eyes fiery. Mike pulled out his arm and stopped the agent.

"You listen here," Coulson began, "You hurt anyone else and I swear I'll blow you to oblivion, personally." The stranger didn't take the threat lightly and moved forward.

"I do things because I have to," the stranger explained moving forward, as Mike tried to pull Coulson back.

"What, attempt to murder an innocent woman and leave her to die helpless and alone, bleeding to death? Was that part of your plan?" Coulson's words hung in the air for what seemed like ages. The stranger stopped, a mixture of sadness and anger swirling inside his extraordinary mind.

"You think I wanted that to happen? She didn't give me answers, I was angry and upset, I have _no one_ left to help me find _–what – I – want_." The tall man half shouted half growled, the only thing softening his presence were the tears that welled up in his eyes. Coulson felt surprised and confused. Why was he crying? _How_ was he crying? They were mad, a psychopathic and dangerous being, it just didn't add up.

"What do you want, that makes you kill anything and anyone to find it?" Coulson asked impatiently.

"Family." There was silence in the dark hallway which lay deep underground, which only few knew existed. The three men were lost in thought. It was a strange moment for Coulson, standing there facing a potential enemy _with_ an enemy turned ally. He just wanted to get out of there with his team, alive. Now it was time to gamble.

"Ok, I'll make you a deal," he said, "You get us out of here, we'll help you find you family."

Mike grabbed his arm and stared, bewildered down at the agent.

""Are you sure that's a wise decision, sir?" he whispered hoarsely.

"It's a decision I'm willing to take. It's our only choice," Coulson whispered back, "Look at him, a lonely man searching for his family, doing everything he can to find them. I understand his motive. As long as we're careful and watch our backs, it shouldn't be a problem. Although I'm still pissed off at what he's done to May." Mike sighed in frustration and turned to face the stranger and watched Coulson walked slowly over.

"What do you say?" he asked and held out his hand. The tall man was confused as he looked down at Coulson's out stretched hand. It was as if he was showing him something invisible.

"You shake it," Coulson told him, slightly amused.

"I know," the man replied slowly and took the hand in his own large hand.

"Coulson!" Mike warned as a wormhole appeared suddenly down the hall. They all turned to face it, a cold draft pouring out of its dark void.

"Will you _stop_ doing that?" Coulson complained frowning at the stranger. The man looked down at him also frowning.

"You think I'm doing that?" the men felt dread in their guts.

"Well if you aren't and we're not, who is?"

She fell down about ten foot into darkness, screaming. She felt the cold air pass through her hair and the dark close in around her. There was a floating sensation then a falling sensation, and then a sudden burst of pain as she crashed onto the cold concrete floor. She cried tears, which merged with the blood that ran from her nose. Trembling she struggled to roll over onto her back, trying to look back up at where she'd come from, but all was pitch black.

"Hello? Hello? Hello..." she coughed; her throat was dry from the dust that lay thick on the ground. She felt lonely and lost, no one was going to find her, she was sure of it. She continued to cry and clung onto her painful thigh. It burned and burned like she'd been shot with fire, way worse than being stunned with an icer. She tried to sit up and ached all over.

"Fitz," she said through tears, "I'm sorry I'm not sitting by your bedside holding your hand, I'm sorry I left you alone. Now I'm alone and… if there's a possibility of you hearing me, hear this." She looked up into the dark and exhaled, "Leo, Fitz, I love you." A single tear ran down her face and fell into the dusty ground. She sat in fear and loneliness.

"I love you," she whispered into her knees. There was a silence that she'd never felt before and a soft breeze from behind her.

_"Gemma…"_ a voice floated along with the breeze barely audible. She slowly looked up.

"Gemma, my girl…"

"Fitz?" she whispered back, just as she saw the wormhole spreading light into the darkness. She heard more voices and feet running towards her. The voice became clearer and Jemma breathed out relieved as she saw Coulson run through, and she fell back to the ground.

"Jemma?" he cried looking around in the dark, the light from the portal his only torch. Jemma waved her hand in the air and tried to shout out, but the tears and dust choked her, she could hardly breathe. He turned and saw her lying there, small and lost. He ran quickly to her side, arms out reaching for her. Everything seemed slow, like the world had stopped spinning and Coulson was just a blur.

"Jemma," he said as he picked her up in his arms.

"Fitz," she breathed as she collapsed into his arms, trembling and happy, wondering whether it was Fitz's voice in the silence.

"Come on," Coulson smiled as they quickly jumped back through the wormhole.

They all stood outside the wormhole and waited for it to close, but it stayed open, unwelcome and dark. Mike had taken Jemma in his arms, her head rested against his chest. She was half conscious, shivers covered her but she was still able to feel and hear. She listened to his heart beat as Coulson and the stranger stood before the wormhole.

"It's weird," Coulson broke the silence, "Do you think someone is controlling them, or are they just a natural phenomenon? It reminds me of what Director Fury saw when we had a certain unwelcome Asgardian." Coulson shivered as he remembered the sharp featured face with that eerie grin.

"What happened?" asked the man curiously.

"He said there was a portal that opened in a beam of blue light, and, well, out he came."

"Who?" There was coughing from the room where the sick agent lay and sudden cries for help.

"May!" Coulson ran into the room to find her on the ground where Mike had left her, rolling on her back.

"Get it off me, get it off me!" she screamed, brushing her hands down her arms and weary body. Coulson skidded to the ground beside, collecting grime on his black suit. Not that he cared.

"May, it's ok, there's nothing there-" he placed a hand on her shoulder but she pushed him away.

"Don't touch me Phil! It'll be all over you too!" Coulson knew it was getting serious as she continued to cry and wail, rubbing her skin and clothes as if trying to get rid of something.

"She's hallucinating," Mike muttered as he watched from the doorway.

"Come one," Coulson said worriedly and although she was fretting around, he scooped her off the ground and carried her out. She flapped her arms around and elbowed him in the mouth. He tasted blood on his lip and tongue, but didn't hesitate.

"We need to get out, _now,_" he said quickly. The stranger stood forward and pointed down the hallway.

"This way," and they followed the man whom they couldn't trust and didn't know, but was their only chance of saving May. At least they hoped it was.


	6. Part 6

**Author's Note: Wow, this was an emotional roller coaster of a chapter. I had know idea it would end up like this but this is all I have written up that's left. Need to grab my pen and keep writing! I don't know when the next time will be that I'll post the next Part, as I'm going on holiday in a weeks time and I'm not sure if I'll be able to type up my new part in time. So if I don't post anything from now I hope you all have a great rest of the holidays and see you soon, enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.**

* * *

"Skye, lower the ramp!" Coulson ordered through his ear-piece, whilst breaking out into a run with May in his arms. They were above ground now, the hot dry air brushed against his skin as he walked ahead of the others. She lay in a terrible state, it didn't help that she'd lost a lot of blood and was being to see things that weren't really there.

"It's alright May, we're here now," he assured her, pity coursing through his veins. He felt his arms being to burn, his muscles aching for having carried her underground, up flights of stairs and a long dirt track which lasted a good 500 meters away from the large plane. Coulson watched as the ramp lowered to the ground, the sun reflecting brightly off Lola's bumper. He clung onto May and made his way up the ramp, followed by Mike who held Jemma strongly in his arms. He watched as a distressed Skye ran down the spiral stairs, her long brown curly hair waving behind her.

"Mike? What are you doing here-" She stopped at the base of the stairs and her mouth opened wide in shock.

"Jemma! What happened?" she asked reaching them. She looked down the ramp to see May lying cold and pale in Coulson's arms.

"May!" she breathed hard and felt a heavy cloud shroud over her. Her emotions went haywire, but they needed her to cope in order for her to help. The tears will be saved for later.

"Skye, take her quickly. She a little faint but she's alright," Mike tried to sound calm as he lowered her to her feet. Jemma felt gravity pulling her down and her spinning. Skye put her arm around her friend and supported her bruised body.

"Mike, help me!" Coulson called the man over and the two of them carried May between them towards the medical room. She struggled and fought to get free, but the men kept her in their grasp, carrying her broken body through the humid plane.

Skye walked Jemma to the top of the ramp and helped her walk slowly into the lab. All this time, the stranger stood at the base of the ramp, unnoticed and silent, waiting to make his move.

Reaching the medical room they placed her on the bed, her skin was almost as white as the sheets.

"Let me go!" she cried, her strength lessening with every breath and hand gesture. The lack of blood and intense heat was messing with her head. She couldn't control herself and Coulson found it painful to watch. He was surprised she'd even made it this far.

"We need anaesthetic," he said as he pinned her arms down to the bed beside her hips. Mike gave him a look of _'like I know where that is.' _

"I need something to help stop the pain, something strong, and anything that will relieve her from this agony. Check the cupboards for medicines, pills, whatever. There should be some Morphine somewhere in here-" Coulson was cut off by a swift elbow punch in his stomach, as May continued to struggle under pressure. He coughed and his face went red.

"Now Mike!" he shouted getting impatient. All the while Mike had scoured the shelves for something but there didn't seem to be anything they could use, or he just didn't know what the many bottles of scientific names were.

"Go ask Jemma, she's the only one who knows where everything is in this room. Go!" Mike nodded and ran like the wind out of the room and down the corridor. Coulson found himself left to look after May, which turned out to be a bit of a handful. Especially as she started to break free.

"Let go of me you monster!" she cried.

"Hey, stop it, calm down," he said firmly. May shifted and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm drowning, there's so much of it, so much red!" she screamed fighting to get free but Coulson steadied her force and pushed her arms down stronger. The muscles in his arms pressed against his black suit blazer as he fought to keep her down.

"You're hallucinating May, you've nothing to fear."

"You know nothing of fear, none of it!" she retaliated and kneed him in the side. He grunted, wheezing slightly, and then pushed her body back against the bed, his chest against hers.

"Oh I know fear, Agent Melinda May. I feared the day I died, I feared the days when my team did everything they could to save your lives, I feared when I found out why and how I was still alive…and you, I feared I'd lost you forever. My precious, beautiful May." She started to calm down and smiled.

"You, you really think I'm beautiful? And precious?" she asked, her words slurring slightly. He laughed lightly.

"Every single hair on your body means the universe to me." She sighed and closed her eyes. Coulson stared at her and checked her pulse on her neck. It slowed down and her features softened. Looking up he saw Mike ejecting a needle from May's thigh. Coulson sighed deeply and chuckled, resting his back against a medicine cabinet. He exchanged glances with Mike and they both began to laugh quietly, breathing heavily as if they'd just ran a one hundred meter sprint.

She was sleeping painlessly at last. Coulson stroked her hand and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

Skye sat Jemma on the table in the lab. Her eyes were red and sore, tiredness or sadness she wasn't sure, and Skye pitied her. She placed a hand on the scientists shoulder.

"Hey, you ok?" Jemma looked up and opened her eyes wide as if from a trance, and smiled faintly.

"Yes, never been better." Skye didn't believe that one bit but didn't want to point it out.

"Is there anything I can help with?" someone said to her left. She span round to see a very tall man who was dark haired, with the most unusually beautiful eyes she'd ever seen - as if she was staring into a universe, standing at the sliding doors.

"Who are you?" she asked suddenly, realising there was a stranger on board. She clasped the icer that was tucked into the back of her jeans. He raised his hands up in defence.

"Don't worry, I found Coulson and your friends in trouble and I helped them escape."

"You saved them?" Skye felt a little more at ease and let go of the icer, and walked towards him.

"Thank you," she smiled holding out her hand. He walked over to her slowly but casually. He stared at her hand.

"You shake it," she raised an eyebrow.

"I know," he replied slowly and sniffed the air, stepping closer. Skye retrieved her hand and gulped.

"Hay fever?" she asked, trying to appear braver than she felt she was at the time.

"Something like that," he replied more softly this time, smiling happily, his eyes sparkling. To Skye, they were _actually_ sparkling. Jemma groaned behind them as she held her head between her hands. Skye jogged over to her friend and Jemma shook her head and squinted.

"My head is splitting, it's like I've got ten migraines going on all at once."

"Come on, let's get you to bed shall we?" Skye put her arms out in front of her as the scientist slid off the table. She landed on her feet but couldn't take the pressure of the jump. Her legs gave way and before she knew it, the stranger was cradling her in his bulky arms. He smiled sweetly at Skye.

"Well, where must she go?" Skye smiled back and raised her hand to the direction of the cabins.

"This way," and they made their way through the plane, the bruised scientist longing for comfort. The stranger smiled broadly as the young girl led the way.


End file.
